


Christmas Wolf

by Dexterous_Sinistrous



Series: A Wolf for All Seasons [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Tree, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Explicit Sexual Content, First Christmas, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-02-28 10:53:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2729744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexterous_Sinistrous/pseuds/Dexterous_Sinistrous
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is greatly disappointed with college so far. Long classes, boring professors, an unimpressed roommate, and serious lack of Derek. He thought it would be easy going to college further away, giving him incentive to work hard for the reward of returning home to his werewolf boyfriend. But Derek only plagues his mind more than usual now that he hasn't seen him for a few months.</p><p>And to make matters worse, Stiles procrastinated until last minute. Now if he can just get this paper done, he'll be free to tumble head first into bed with Derek and not emerge until the end of January.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Christmas fluff because I have been slaving away over my longer Sterek fic (which documents their relationship from the beginning of the series), and I wanted some nice established relationship time.
> 
> Derek still has his Black Camaro in this because I am in love with that car.

Stiles quickly tapped away on his laptop, determined to finish the cursed paper before his father arrived to pick him up. He was desperate to be done with everything so he could focus his attentions on Derek, and only Derek. His father had insisted that he pick him up, a guarantee that he would see his son at least once during the winter vacation, knowing the rest of the vacation would be spent curled up with Derek in bed. _Curled up, among other things_ , Stiles smiled to himself as he pictured the earthshattering sex he was going to have when he finally had his boyfriend all to himself.

There was a unceremonious knock on his open dorm door. Stiles didn’t look up as he continued to type.

“Yeah?” Stiles answered, refusing to look away from his laptop.

“Stilinski, this guy said that he’s here to pick you up?” A familiar female voice explained. Stiles knew it was one of the sorority girls who were ‘slumming it’ in his hall.

“Thanks,” Stiles partially sighed, disappointed that his paper was going to remain unfinished since his dad arrived earlier than expected.

“So how do you know Stiles?” The girl asked in a higher pitch, a pathetically bubbly, weak excuse for flirtation. _Okay, it wasn’t that bad_ , Stiles corrected himself. _But she is hitting on my dad and that’s a whole other level of creepy._

“He’s my d—” Stiles began to turn and look at the person he believed was his dad when his voice hitched, “Derek?!” He stated in surprise as he stood.

“Your … Derek?” The girl asked in confusion as she arched a perfectly waxed eyebrow at Stiles.

Derek smiled at Stiles’ shocked expression, Stiles’ hands floating up in a gesture of confusion. He was shocked and overjoyed at the same time.

“Your dad gave me permission to come get you,” Derek explained. He turned back to the girl, before politely stating, “Thanks for helping me find him.” It was Derek’s polite way of telling her he wasn’t interested.

“You are a goddamn glorious sight, you know that?” Stiles said, ignoring the girl as she parted.

Derek walked into the room, looking around as he noted the various posters decorating the walls. He instantly knew which bed was Stiles, the scent he missed for months radiating off of it.

“Cozy,” Derek stated as he purposely continued to ignore Stiles.

“Cozy?” Stiles looked at his room. “You haven’t seen me for months, thanks to my father being crazy, and all you can say is cozy?” He was seriously tired of Derek’s nonchalant attitude when it came to him.

“I don’t have to talk to you to know how much you miss me,” Derek stated as he closed the gap between them. “Your scent is saying it all.”

“Normally, I would be really creeped out if someone said that to me,” Stiles explained as he was finally able to place his hands on Derek’s chest. “But when you say it, it’s fucking hot as hell.”

Derek smiled as he leaned down to kiss Stiles, smiling when he felt Stiles’ grip tighten on his shirt. Stiles pushed harder into the kiss the more Derek pulled back, a continual tease before finally pushing back in. Stiles sighed in content as their tongues finally met. It wasn’t graceful or slow, but rather passionate and perfect. It was everything Stiles was dreaming it would be. To finally have Derek in his hands again was driving him crazy. He didn’t care that his door was still open and anyone could peek in. His entire floor thought he was weird for always being on his laptop, anyways. _Who cares if they see me making out with my super hot boyfriend? Points for me_ , he thought as he pushed up onto the balls of his feet in an attempt to gain a dominant stance in their kiss.

Derek eased Stiles away from him, their lips separating, but not before Stiles fought to remain together by baring his teeth sensually down on Derek’s bottom lip. Derek laughed slightly when Stiles released a whine of disapproval.

“The faster you stop sulking and get your stuff together, the faster we get home,” Derek replied.

“We? Home?” Stiles arched an eyebrow as the words sunk in.

“Your dad … gave his blessing,” Derek arched his eyebrows slightly, trying to gage Stiles’ feelings towards the situation. He released his hold on Stiles as he separated them, giving them both room to have a conversation rather than jumping the other.

 _You and your perfect eyebrows. You perfect asshole_ , Stiles thought. “My dad gave the all-clear?”

Derek kept his hands in the pockets of his jacket as he shrugged slightly. He was nervous to give Stiles a direct answer. Did he have to have ‘the talk’ with Sheriff Stilinski? Unfortunately. Would Stiles turn redder than his lacrosse sweatshirt knowing that his dad now knows they were a sexually active couple? Most definitely. He gracefully plopped his body down on Stiles’ bed, relishing the look of utter desire on Stiles’ face. “I think it’s his apology for keeping us apart over Thanksgiving break,” Derek offered.

“So,” Stiles leaned against his desk, trying not to act on the impulses telling him to tumble head first into bed with Derek. “Are you okay with that?” He twisted the cap on one of his stray pens, desperate to stare at something besides Derek.

“I came to get you, didn’t I?” Derek countered with a question of his own. He took his hands out of his pockets, leaning his body back on the bed as he held his weight up on his forearms. He moved his fingers across the fabric of the quilt covering Stiles’ bed. It was Stiles’ scent that made him see flashes of him sleeping tangled in the sheets. _Among other activities_ , he smiled to himself as he saw the times Stiles moaned and writhed in the sheets as he pleasured himself with Derek’s name tumbling off his lips.

“You need to stop putting your body on display,” Stiles partially argued, half hating and half loving Derek’s new position.

The tight v-neck inched up perfectly on Derek’s abs, revealing the trail of hair just below his navel. That damn trail Stiles loved to follow like Little Red Riding Hood, discovering his own Big Bad Wolf. Stiles slightly shook the mental image of him as a young fictional female character, even though part of him liked to think he was completely at the mercy of his Big Bad Derek Hale.

“My eyes are up here, Stiles,” Derek stated, feigning being insulted by Stiles staring at his crotch.

“You love it when I objectify you,” Stiles replied, crossing his arms. “And you never answered my question: are you okay with me staying with you?”

“Stiles,” Derek stated his name with a gentleness that Stiles was only used to when they were alone. It was the tone Derek used when he wasn’t laying on his charm. It was the scared, broken kid hidden behind the badass ex-Alpha mask. And Stiles loved that he could experience Derek like this. “I came to get you because I talked to your father. I asked his permission to be with you. I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t want you living with me.” He stared up at Stiles, those eyes that mirrored an endlessly green forest hidden beneath gorgeously, thick black lashes.

 _Those damn eyes!_ Stiles thought as he looked away. Derek could look at Stiles and tell him anything, and he would be lost in those eyes. Lost in Derek.

“Okay,” Stiles mumbled.

“I mean, if you don’t want to—”

“No!” Stiles almost jumped forward in protest. “I want to. I do. I just … It seems too good to be true,” he admitted.

“To be fair, your father told me he would castrate me if you flunked out of school,” Derek explained.

“I would prefer he didn’t,” Stiles stated. “That’s the part I like about you.”

“Just that?” Derek asked in a ‘Is-that-so’ voice.

“Your ass is the main reason,” Stiles replied without hesitation.

Derek laughed, his teeth peering from under his lips.

“That’s how I know there is a God. And she wants me to be happy. She gave you a perfect ass just for me to appreciate.”

“Well,” Derek stated as he stood up, shrugging his jacket off as he stood. Stiles tried to not let the noise of approval escape his throat, loving the view of Derek’s discarded jacket strewed across his bed. “This perfect ass would like to get home sometime soon.” He moved closer to Stiles before adding in a hushed tone, “And the faster we get home, the sooner you can get reacquainted with this ass.”

Stiles ran his hands across Derek’s chest, slowing moving them to rest on his lower back. He was about to retort when he noticed his roommate walk in. He partly groaned, wishing they had actually packed before Aiden returned, untangling his arms from Derek.

“Hey,” Aiden greeted Stiles and Derek in a singular recognition of their existence. He didn’t even look up at them as he sat down at his desk.

“Derek, this is Aiden, my roommate,” Stiles almost droned in a monotone greeting.

“Hi,” Derek replied as he looked at Aiden. He turned back to Stiles’ side of the room, pretending to examine what to take.

Stiles watched Derek for a second and realized that he was almost peacocking. He arched an eyebrow, giving Derek a ‘you-are-kidding-me’ expression. What surprised Stiles was that Aiden was actually looking at Derek in a quizzical manner.

“So, there is a Black Camaro parked out in the loading circle,” Aiden randomly commented.

“That’s mine,” Derek confessed. “It’s not in the way, is it?” The question was more of a challenge than anything.

Stiles felt a flare of attraction rise in him as he realized what Derek was doing. _He’s pissed that my scent smells like Aiden now_. He didn’t bother hiding his smile, wearing it proudly as Derek no doubt started to emit pheromones all over the room, marking Stiles as his. He was just glad that Derek didn't act like a dog and start pissing on everything Stiles owned just to claim him as his.

Aiden ignored Derek’s question as he observed Derek and Stiles. “Is he your cousin?” He asked in a serious tone, seeming to be confused by Derek’s very existence.

Stiles inwardly laughed as he recalled all the times he used to introduce Derek as his cousin. Now, he relished the opportunity to introduce Derek as his boyfriend. He was a prideful person when it came to absorbing people’s reactions.

“No, actually. Derek is my—”

“Boyfriend,” Derek cut Stiles off before he could proudly proclaim it.

“You always do that,” Stiles partly complained.

“You peacock the fact that we’re dating. It was adorable at first, now it is childish,” Derek explained as he yanked Stiles’ empty duffel bag out from under his bed.

“You just called me adorable,” Stiles stated with a smile. “And so what? I can’t be proud that I have a 10 for a boyfriend?” He retorted.

“Nobody is a 10,” Derek replied as he easily dumped Stiles’ laundry into the duffel bag. “I swear, do you never do laundry?” he asked as he observed how almost all of Stiles’ clothes were now being impossibly stuffed into a single duffle bag.

“The laundry room is on the bottom floor. We don’t have elevators,” Stiles partially complained.

“You are doing laundry when we get home,” Derek stated as a demand rather than a suggestion.

“Yes, sir,” Stiles mimicked a fake stereotypical soldier tone.

Aiden remained quiet as he observed the entire conversation play out in front of him. He was bewildered and didn’t understand how two people like Derek and Stiles could possibly be dating and not have killed each other yet.

“Is this all you need?” Derek asked as he grabbed his jacket, easily slipping it on as he turned to face Stiles.

“Uh, yeah,” Stiles replied as he spun around, looking to see if he needed anything else. “I just need my backpack,” he stated as he closed his laptop, sliding it into his bag before zippering it shut.

Derek easily swung the duffle bag over his shoulder before he turned to Aiden. “Nice meeting you,” he stated, walking for the door without waiting for a reply from Aiden.

“I’ll see you after the break,” Stiles stated as he quickly followed Derek into the hallway. He didn’t wait to hear from Aiden, confident that he was either completely confused by the whole situation, or was secretly homophobic. Neither of which Stiles really cared about when he saw Derek waiting from him down the hallway.

“I am so ready to get home,” Stiles announced to Derek as he caught up to him. “Our home,” he corrected himself with a smile.

Derek smiled back as they started walking down the hallways. They made their way passed several people grouping in the halls as they tried to prepare for departing campus.

“This is a zoo,” Derek announced, pulling Stiles out of the way as two guys came jogging down the hallways, not paying attention to others as they sped by.

“Everyone is trying to get out of here to avoid traffic,” Stiles replied as he looked back at Derek. “And, uh, thanks for not getting weird over telling Aiden about us,” he added.

“Why would I not admit you’re my boyfriend?” Derek asked, unsure why Stiles was suddenly bringing up the publicity level of their relationship status.

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted as he continued to walk. “You’re you and I’m me. We’re on different ends of the spectrum. I didn’t know if you were …”

“Embarrassed?” Disbelief laced Derek’s voice as he spoke. “You think I’m embarrassed by you?” He asked as he grabbed Stiles with his free hand.

“I don’t know,” Stiles stated as he stopped walking to face Derek.

“Stiles, I am not embarrassed by you,” Derek plainly stated. “If anything I’m … overwhelmed by the way you constantly over state that we’re together.” He gently ran his hand down Stiles’ arm to intertwine their fingers. “I’m trying to live up to expectations.”

“Mine?” Stiles asked in surprise. “Derek, you could do the stupidest thing and still impress me.”

Derek smiled, releasing his hold on Stiles’ hand to place his arm over his shoulders. He started to walk, pulling Stiles along with him. Stiles smiled to himself as he placed his hand in the back pocket of Derek's jeans, joyfully resting his opened hand against Derek’s ass.

Stiles saw the girl from earlier eyeing them as they walked past her and the group of her friends. They all suddenly stopped speaking as they passed them, their eyes glued to Derek’s arm on Stiles’ shoulders.

Stiles was still partially jealous when he looked back at the girls, noticing them arching an eyebrow. _I have my hand on his ass and they still don’t think we’re a couple_ , he thought in annoyance.

Derek shifted the weight of the duffle bag—overstuffed with Stiles’ clothes—off his shoulder before he stopped walking, halting Stiles with him.

“Hey, you okay?” Stiles asked as he turned to look at Derek.

Stiles was prepared for anything, except Derek’s lips. He quickly kissed him, taking him by surprise. It didn’t take long though for his mind to catch up as he pushed into Derek, glad that he was kissing him again. But another part of him cheered in victory as he knew those girls saw _him_ kissing _his_ boyfriend, the incredible, ruggedly handsome, Derek Hale.

Derek dropped Stiles’ duffle bag as he pushed Stiles back against the hallway’s wall, his feral side growing more dominant from the intimate gesture of possession. He released a small, disapproving growl when Stiles pulled away from him.

“As much as I like putting on a show,” Stiles started to explain. “I would appreciate not putting you on display too much.”

“You were fuming jealousy,” Derek stated. “I thought I’d make a statement. Let everyone know you’re mine,” he almost whispered as he placed a gently kiss on Stiles’ neck, nuzzling the hollow of his shoulder.

Stiles laughed a bit when he realized Derek did the display for him. “It was a good statement. But, uh, I think we could make a better one. At home. Alone,” he suggestively lifted his eyebrows as he spoke.

Derek smiled before slowly kissing Stiles once more. This time, Derek was the one that pulled back, biting Stiles’ lip gently. “You have a paper to write,” he stated as he let go of him, walking back over to pick up the duffle bag he abandoned moments ago.

“Derek Hale, you are such a tease,” Stiles harshly whispered.

Derek laughed in response, seamlessly swinging the duffle bag over his shoulder as he continued the walk down the hallway and towards the dorm’s exit.

Stiles slightly cursed, trying to think of the quickest way to write a passing paper. _You should have written the paper instead of jerking off in the shower to the thought of Derek. You could be having sex with Derek_ now _instead of pretending earlier!_ He inwardly yelled at himself. He grabbed his backpack off the floor before stealing a glance back at the girls.

Stiles smiled when he noticed their shocked faced. _That’s right. Stiles Stilinski is dating Derek Hale._ I _get to kiss_ that, he thought triumphantly as he started to walk down the hallway, following Derek’s lead.

This was going to be the best Christmas vacation Stiles ever had, and he was positive it was all thanks to it being his first of many spent with Derek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 will be up soon. Sexy times to come so stay tuned ;)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This involves M/M sex scene. Don't like, why are you here?
> 
> Also, as of right now, this chapter is subject to change, (mostly editing wise).  
> (EDIT: I read through and changed some wording/sentences and fixed errors, but all-in-all, same outcome).
> 
> Enjoy!

Stiles stared out the windows, watching the snowfall as he rested his chin on his folded hands. His computer’s light brightly irritated his eyes, his unfinished paper glaring at him with less than a few hours left until the deadline. But he didn’t want to think about writing a paper now that he was on vacation. He pulled the sleeves of his sweater down around his hands as he felt the cold radiate through the windows some. The cold was unbearable living in the dorms on campus. Now that he was home, he had all the winter clothes he needed, a functioning heater, and Derek. Derek happened to count as an electric blanket, so he tended to ignore the heater and clothes. _Always ignore the clothes when Derek is around_ , he thought fondly. _Derek said he’d be back by now_ , he noted as he looked at the condescending clock on his computer tick the passing seconds.

Stiles yawned as the countless sleepless nights began to catch up with him now that he had a break from classes. He slowly stood, stretching his body as he gave a faint glare at his computer, before trudging over to the kitchen. He moved to stand in front of the cupboard, reaching to open the door as he stared at the empty space.

“Seriously, Derek?” Stiles questioned out loud as he shook his head.

The cabinet was completely empty besides two mugs sitting on the top shelf.

 _Why are they on the top shelf? He’s not that much taller than me. It’s not like there are kids wandering around his loft in search of mugs to smash_ , Stiles critically thought as he stood on his toes to reach one of the mugs. He hooked his finger around the handle of one of the mug, gracefully pulling it off the shelf and dropping it into his other hand.

Another yawn snuck its way through Stiles’ throat, prying his jaw open. He made an audible protest, annoyed that he was this tired from finals. He ran the water a little before placing the kettle under it, humming ‘It’s Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas’ as he slightly shifting from foot to foot. He flipped the faucet off, placing the kettle on the stove. He leaned against the counter as he waited for the whistling noise to signal the water had boiled.

“I’m dreaming of a White Christmas …” Stiles started to sing before he thought about the lyrics. _That’s not the same song … Both Bing Crosby, though._ He shrugged, as he continued to mumble the lyrics of ‘White Christmas.’

Before long, the whistle signaled Stiles that it was ready. He snatched the kettle by the handle, quickly filling the mug. He turned to grab either tea or hot chocolate before he realized where he was. _Does he not consume anything?!_ He thought in aggravation as he started to ramble through all of the drawers.

“I’m not staying here unless he stocks this place,” Stiles stated to himself with his hands on his hips.

“You just have to ask me to stock it,” Derek’s voice came from behind him.

“Oh, God!” Stiles yelled as he jumped in surprise. He turned to see Derek standing behind him, a small smile tugging at his lips from Stiles’ reaction. “When did you get back?”

“Early enough to hear you singing ‘White Christmas,’” Derek replied as he closed the gap between them.

“I wasn’t singing,” Stiles replied sheepishly. “I was humming.” He didn’t get to finish his statement as Derek leaned in to kiss him. _Jerk. He’s always doing that_ , he thought fondly as he kissed Derek back.

Derek gently touched Stiles’ cheek, running his thumb along his jawline. Stiles pushed himself into Derek, forgetting about the hot water he just boiled in order to keep warm. _Screw hot beverages, I have a very attractive electric blanket I can kiss_ , he thought as he placed his hand over Derek’s heart.

Much to Stiles’ disappointment, it was Derek who leaned back first. Stiles let out an audible sigh of disapproval, receiving a small kiss on his forehead in response.

“You were singing,” Derek stated.

“Why is your jacket freezing?” Stiles asked as he changed the subject. _He’s still going to tease me, no matter how many times I change the subject_.

“I told you, I had an errand to run,” Derek replied as he started to walk back out to the entrance of the loft.

“Wait, you didn’t actually _run_ the errand, did you?” Stiles asked as he followed Derek into the entrance.

“I needed to get some air,” Derek stated. “I’m not used to having you all to myself.” He smiled when he felt Stiles’ pulse quickened.

“For once, I would like to have a normal boyfriend,” Stiles replied. “You know, one who doesn’t go running to get his arousal down. One who does something romantic, like get me chocolate, take me—” he stopped himself from talking when he saw the pine tree laying on its side, snow covering some of it. “You went and got a tree?” He asked with a smile on his face. “What happened to ‘I’m a sour wolf and I don’t like holidays’?”

“Well,” Derek started as he grabbed the trunk of the tree to pull it further into the loft. “I figured if you are going to be spending Christmas here, it was worth celebrating.”

“You’re so lucky there is a tree between us right now, because I would jump you for how romantic that was,” Stiles stated as he watched Derek haul the tree into place. “You carried that whole tree back here?”

“I’m a werewolf, Stiles,” Derek reminded him. “It _was_ a little difficult while carrying this,” he threw a plastic grocery bag at Stiles as he spoke.

Stiles caught the bag with both hands, untying the knot—with what he would never admit to as giddy excitement—as quick as possible. He looked down to discover on the top of the pile to be a tin of hot chocolate.

“Don’t say I don’t buy you chocolate,” Derek joked as he grabbed the tree stand to set it into place.

Stiles smiled as he held the hot chocolate tin against his chest. “I have the sweetest boyfriend.” He smiled when Derek rolled his eyes at him. He looked back down in the bag and ruffled through it. “I can’t believe you,” he stated as he held up the lights. “Why didn’t you tell me you were going to get a tree and decorations?”

“Because someone had a paper to finish,” Derek stated as he slid his jacket off his shoulders. “And let me guess, with your focus, you still have a paper to finish.”

“I got further,” Stiles stated in defense as he walked back to the kitchen.

“Stiles,” Derek replied in a warning tone. “You got that extension so you could come home early.”

“Okay, please stop sounding like my father. It’s a mood killer,” Stiles replied. _Boner killer, to be more accurate_ , he thought as he opened the hot chocolate. He quickly spooned the cocoa mix into the water, thankful Derek showed up when he did, as the water was still hot. He pulled the sleeves of his sweater to cover his hands once again as he cradled the mug between his hands, walking back over to the desk where his computer awaited him.

Stiles quickly sat in his chair, folding his leg underneath him as he sat down. He looked over to Derek, watching him lift the tree with elegance as he gracefully set it in the stand. He couldn’t help but smile as he admired Derek.

“Watching me set up the tree isn’t doing your paper,” Derek stating, not having to look at Stiles to know he was watching him.

“Okay, I haven’t seen you in more than a month, and you are reprimanding me for looking at you? At least I’m not ripping your clothes off,” Stiles said defensively, as if he was the victim to some unfair punishment. _Punishment of being unable to touch your Greek god of a boyfriend as he walks around in front of you._

“You’re lucky I haven’t ripped your clothes off,” Derek slightly mumbled in reply.

“Well, I think we’re in agreement. We should just start ripping clothes off,” Stiles replied eagerly as he started to stand.

“ _Sit_ your ass down and write your paper,” Derek said as he pointed at Stiles’ computer. “I’m not having your father bitch me out because you failed college.”

“Ugh, you’re so hot when you boss me around about education,” Stiles groaned as he sat back down, turning to face his computer.

Stiles started to drum his fingers against the keys as he aggressively made up an ending to his argument. He continued to steal side-glances at Derek as he pathetically wrapped up his paper.

 _I’m not sure if this makes sense or if I’m starting to believe my own bullshit_ , Stiles thought as he scrolled through his paper. He looked at Derek, noticing the tree was successfully standing on its own. He felt his resolve begin to decay the minute Derek sat on the edge of the bed.

Derek started to unlace his boots, slipping them off to set them neatly on the floor at the base of the bed. He looked down at his clothes, slightly frowning when he noticed the droplets of sap smeared into his shirt. He stood up, carefully pulling his shirt over his head. He turned the shirt over, looking at the sticky stain marks in the material.

Derek was so preoccupied with inspecting his shirt, that he didn’t notice Stiles gracefully crawling across the bed behind him. He smiled when Stiles wrapped his arms around his waist, pressing his face into the curve of his back.

Stiles placed a gentle kiss on Derek’s tattoo, sighing in content that he was finally free from his stupid paper.

“Did you finish your paper?” Derek partly smiled when Stiles grumbled into his back.

“I just sent it in,” Stiles replied in satisfaction.

“Are you going to pass?” Derek asked as he turned to face Stiles.

“Pass? Oh, yeah,” Stiles replied as he tightened his grip on Derek, pulling them closer together. “Definitely pass,” he added as he placed a kiss on Derek’s chest, just above his heart.

Derek pushed his fingers into Stiles’ hair, gently pulling his hair. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or disappointed that you are lying to me so I’ll let you have sex with me,” he stated as he tightened his grip, pulling Stiles’ head backwards to force him to look up. “Has a month really been that bad?” He playfully nipped Stiles’ bottom lip, making Stiles lean into him.

“Agony,” Stiles replied, pushing into Derek.

Derek gave in, kissing Stiles before breaking away to nuzzle his neck. Stiles rested his hands on Derek’s back, sighing in content as Derek’s beard sent goose bumps throughout his body. His hands ran along Derek’s back, enjoying the way his muscles reacted to his touch before sliding his hands down the denim fabric to rest on Derek’s ass, pushing their bodies together as a needy moan escaped his throat.

“Your scent changed,” Derek grumbled as he nuzzled the crook of Stiles’ neck, rubbing his beard gently against his skin.

“God, I missed your beard.”

Derek easily pushed Stiles backwards, causing him to fall onto his back as his body sprawled across the bed.

“You smell like pine,” Stiles fondly commented as he slowly removed his sweater, easily pulling his shirt over his head, tossing the garments aimlessly towards the desk his computer was abandoned on. “And leather.”

“And you stink of college,” Derek mused back, moving his way down Stiles’ chest.

“Change it then,” Stiles moaned in response.

Derek hooked his fingers under the pantline of Stiles’ jeans, easily pulling the material from his body. Stiles laughed slightly at Derek’s aggressive manner towards his jeans, amused that he managed to remove them without undoing the button or zipper.

Stiles sat up, meeting Derek as he crawled over his legs, pressing their lips together in a hurried kiss. Derek moved his hands under Stiles’ thighs, gently running his hands along his skin before cupping his ass. He kissed his way down Stiles’ chest, his tongue running along the contours of his stomach, pulling a small whine of approval from Stiles’ throat.

“Derek,” Stiles moaned his name when Derek pulled his legs up and around his hips, slowly grinding against him as he caught his lips in a searing kiss. “Please,” he begged through partial kisses. “I need you.”

That was the only thing Derek needed to hear, effortlessly pulling Stiles’ briefs off through the pile of limbs, sending them flying across the room as if he was appalled by their very existence. Stiles smiled, missing moments like these, overjoyed that he was officially on break and now _living_ with Derek.

Stiles sucked in a sharp intake of breath the moment Derek’s mouth enveloped him. His hands shot out, burying his fingers in the dark locks of Derek’s hair, his hips slightly rocking to the rhythm of Derek’s bobbing head. His toes curled under as the heat built up from his legs, spreading to the pit of his stomach. His hips involuntarily bucked up into Derek’s mouth—rougher than Stiles thought possible—the minute Derek’s finger grazed his entrance.

“Careful,” Derek voiced his amusement at Stiles’ reaction.

“You’re not the one being tortured right now,” Stiles stated.

“Tortured?” Derek arched his eyebrow, a perfectly amused smile creeping onto his lips.

 _Fuck you, your lips, and your eyebrows_ , Stiles thought as he tightened his grip on the sheets. “Being around you for more than a day without being able to touch you, is torture, and you know it.”

“If you want to touch me,” Derek sat up as he spoke. “Then touch me.” It was an invitation to Stiles to take control of the situation. _Carpe diem_ , Stiles thought as he took in the sight of a shirtless Derek, sitting invitingly on the bed with him. And he was going to carpe the fuck out of that diem.

Stiles almost lunged forward as he grabbed Derek by the belt loops of his pants. Derek let him maneuver them so he was now lying in Stiles’ former spot on the bed. Stiles made quick work of Derek’s pants, easily yanking them off as he sent them flying in the same direction Derek sent Stiles’ briefs.

“You’re going to litter our place in clothes if you’re not careful,” Derek commented.

Stiles stopped his actions when Derek’s words registered. _Our place_. He smiled to himself, not knowing the effect those words could have on him. “You just said ‘our place,’” he almost whispered, the smile still lingering on his lips.

Derek sat up, pulling Stiles into a kiss. “I’ve been wanting to say that for months now,” he explained, resting his forehead against Stiles’. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” Stiles replied, pressing his hands to Derek’s chest as he slowly eased him back against the bed. He moved his way down Derek’s body, appreciating every contour and curve of his muscles. He remembered how he used to fantasize about touching Derek this way, thinking he would never have the opportunity to be like this. _I am beyond lucky_ , Stiles thought as he easily discarded Derek’s briefs. He didn’t wait for an invitation this time, teasing him slightly before committing to working Derek’s length with his mouth.

Derek released a throaty grunt, running his fingers through Stiles’ hair. The rough pull of his hair made Stiles smile; if it was just for this reason alone, he was glad he grew out his hair over the last few years.

“Stiles,” Derek moaned his name. “So damn perfect.”

Stiles beamed with pride at the fact that he was making the normally stoic, ‘strong, silent type’ Derek Hale come undone, and loved every moment of it. He continued to work Derek until he was suddenly pulled off of him. He was surprised by Derek's strength when he yanked him up, kissing him quickly before turning him over onto his hands and knees.

"I need you," Derek muttered, kissing the dimples just above Stiles' cleft. Stiles swore loudly when Derek ran his tongue along his entrance, spreading his ass in an attempt for better access. He used his spit to help lubricate him, continuing to mercilessly tease him.

"Derek," Stiles moaned. "Please," he begged before panting out, "Spread me."

"You're driving me crazy," Derek commented, inserting a finger next to his tongue.

"Oh, God," Stiles called out, pressing his face into the bed, biting down as he tried not to come yet. His mind pictured Derek entering him, fucking him senseless like their first time. He remembered Derek tried to stay in control, but his wolf refused to remain caged. He felt something clutch his chest when he thought how guilty Derek felt the next day when Stiles couldn't even walk to the bathroom without help.  _It was worth every glorious second of it_.

Stiles recalled the first time they barebacked, something that was drilled into his brain as a terrible idea since he hit puberty. He was happy he had the embarrassing conversation with Derek about condoms, though. It made sex so much easier once Derek explained that werewolves can’t catch anything, eliminating the need for one.

 _Gay sex makes it even better with lack of pregnancy scare_ , Stiles’ brain commented as he watched Derek effortless retrieve the lube from the nightstand drawer. Derek was instantly back behind Stiles again, kissing his shoulder as his fingers continued to stretch him. Stiles moaned, pressing his head into the pillow as he elevated his ass into the air, completely at Derek’s mercy. He quietly whimpered when Derek’s fingers grazed his prostate, rocking his hips back onto them, eager for more.

Stiles heard the cap of the lube, anticipation surging through him when Derek removed his fingers. _At this point, I don't even care about lube_ , he thought, partially shocked that he was going this crazy over sex deprivation.

Derek's fingers briefly returned to their former position, coating Stiles’ entrance with the cold gel. His hands were warm but firm on Stiles’ hips, gently easing him back. Stiles loudly moaned when Derek pressed into him, his fingers fastening like pistons around the sheets. The burn was faint, but familiar and welcomed as Stiles recalled how much he missed the feeling of Derek moving inside him.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ chest, their bodies fitting perfectly together. _Like we were made for each other_ , he tenderly thought as he carefully nibbled Stiles’ shoulder. He pressed his opened palms into Stiles’ chest, spreading his fingers over his skin as he attempted to drown Stiles’ scent in his, letting everyone know they belonged to each other. He felt Stiles’ heart beating beneath his hand, his pulse escalating, beating against his chest like a fox battering its cage in an attempt to escape.

“Derek,” Stiles partly wailed when Derek didn’t move. His yelp ended in a satisfied moan when Derek gave a firm, rough thrust forward, burying himself in Stiles. He rolled his head backward, resting the base of his neck against Derek’s shoulder in an attempt to bare his neck to him. He knew Derek loved being able to kiss his neck, being able to claim him with such an intimate act. It was an act of mating, and Stiles knew it and performed it with joy, loving the low growl that emitted from deep in Derek’s chest when he took the offering.

Derek set the pace slow, loving the whimpers pouring out from Stiles’ mouth as he incoherently begged him to move faster. He bit and sucked the skin of Stiles’ neck, leaving a beautiful hickey—a lover's mark that humans understood. He bared his teeth down, scraping them across his skin to produce an approving groan from Stiles.

Stiles moaned, rocking back harder against Derek, attempting to make him move faster. Derek, however, kept the slow pace, determined to drag out their first time reunited longer than usual.

“Derek,” Stiles querulously begged. He gasped in protest when Derek suddenly pushing him forward, pulling out of him. He smiled though when Derek’s hands easily flipped him over, making him face him.

Derek’s body was immediately against his, effortlessly pushing back inside of him. He kissed Stiles, swallowing his moan as he slowly rocked into him.

Stiles’ voice hitched with every firm thrust of Derek’s hips, every hit of his prostate drawing him closer to orgasm. This is what he missed about being home in Beacon Hills. Derek Hale, his boyfriend—he was positive, the love of his life—making him writhe with pleasure. Derek was the only person who could do this to him, and Stiles gladly accepted that reality. He had tried—countless times—to reach the same level of pleasure that Derek brought him, but he could never recreate it.

“I missed you,” Derek admitted as he pressed his face into the hollow of Stiles’ neck. “Your voice, your scent, your body,” he listed off, sucking his skin hard enough to leave another small reminder in the form of a bruise.

“God, I missed you too,” Stiles reciprocated, locking his legs around Derek’s hips, trying to push their bodies closer together as he started to meet Derek thrust for thrust.

Derek ran his hands along Stiles’ arms, slipping his fingers to interlace with Stiles’. Stiles clasped his fingers closed, digging his nails into Derek’s knuckles as he edged extremely close. Derek slipped one of his hands from Stiles’ grip, reaching between them to stroke Stiles.

“No,” Stiles weakly whimpered. “Just from you … inside me,” he was barely able to explain in his pleasure-ridden state.

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek nearly groaned, finally picking up his pace.

Stiles vocalized the hitch in his voice, knowing Derek loved to hear his voice when he was about to come. He knew it was something that pushed Derek closer to coming, as well. He grasped onto Derek’s back with his free hand, digging his nails into his skin, earning a pleasure-filled grunt from Derek.

Stiles’ body tensed, signaling his orgasm as spasms raked through his body. He cried out Derek’s name, slightly digging his heels into his lower back.

Derek gently bit down on Stiles’ neck in return, careful to not pierce his skin. He eased back to his slow rhythm, making Stiles ride his orgasm out as he almost thrashed, panting heavy as his limbs suddenly went limp. He tried his best to push his hips up and into Derek, trying to make him come.

“Stiles,” Derek moaned as he finally climaxed, pressing his face into his throat. He tried to keep his pace, unable to continue moving as he curled his body into Stiles’.

Stiles released an almost inaudible gasp when Derek came, filling him completely. He was still getting used to the way it turned him on to be taken by Derek, but it never ceased to amaze him. Several minutes passed as he ran his hands along Derek’s back, coaxing his body out of the aftermath of his euphoric haze. He loved the feeling of Derek’s body covering his, weighing down on him as Derek remained limp inside him. He kissed Derek’s temple, gently whispering in his ear, “That was the best reward for finishing that stupid paper.”

Derek’s muffled laugh was the only indicator that he heard him before he sat up, lifting a majority of his weight off of Stiles. “So I should not have sex with you until you finish all your assignments?”

“Jesus, no,” Stiles replied. “I think I’d die. I think we should stay like this,” he stated as he leaned up to kiss Derek’s collarbone. “With you still inside me.”

A predatory growl came from Derek when Stiles shifted his hips. “You want to go again?”

“Yes please,” Stiles eagerly stated like a child asked if he wanted more desert.

Time passed until it was the early hours of the day, both of them weakly falling into the bed. Derek was the one who made his way to the bathroom, coming back with a warm facecloth to clean their mess. Stiles smiled, happily watching Derek slightly crawl over the bed, the moonlight accenting his naked form perfectly, as he began cleaning both of them.

When Derek was satisfied that they were both acceptably clean enough to sleep, he collapsed his body onto the bed as he pulled Stiles into him.

Stiles nudged his face into Derek’s chest, an attempt to get closer to him, taking in his warmth completely. “Do I still stink like college?” He asked through a yawn.

“Not as bad,” Derek replied as he pulled the blanket up to cover Stiles more, sensing the shiver run through his body. “We’ll have to work on it some more.”

“Gladly,” Stiles sleepily replied.

“Get some sleep,” Derek commented.

“But I’m not tired,” Stiles argued.

“Of course you’re not,” Derek said, placing his free arm behind his pillow.

Stiles murmured something completely incoherent as he drifted off to sleep. Derek looked down at him, noticing his eyes were closed and his breathing had steadied itself. He lifted his hand from its resting place on Stiles’ hip, running his fingers gently through his hair as he listened to Stiles’ calm breathing.

 _His hair’s longer_ , Derek thought to himself as he noted the length. He rested his head back onto the pillow, staring up at the ceiling. He slowly began to drift into sleep, content for the first time in months now that he had Stiles tucked safely away under his arm.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Derek wasn’t certain what time it was when he was ripped from his sleep. His body jerked him awake, trying to rid him of his nightmare. He sat up, frantically searching the room for someone or something that didn’t belong. It was the hand resting on his stomach that brought him back to reality. _Stiles_. He looked down at the hand, recognizing the long, slender fingers. His eyes traveled up Stiles’ arm, before resting on his face.

Stiles was sound asleep, mumbling slightly to himself, talking in his sleep. His eyes were gently closed, his lashes thick and black against his pale skin.

Derek gently moved Stiles’ hand, leaving the warmth and comfort of the bed. Stiles released a small groan in protest, feeling the absence of Derek’s heat even in his sleep. He moved, hugging Derek’s pillow tightly as a substitution.

Derek easily slid on a pair of his sweatpants before heading into the entrance of the loft. He observed the bare Christmas tree, noticing how out of place it looked in a place where he lived. Everyone would be convinced he went completely mad if they saw it. But he didn’t really care. It was for Stiles, and part of Derek liked that he had nagged him into getting it.

The thoughts of the Christmas tree were pushed out of his mind when he recalled his dream. He remembered seeing Stiles, being unable to reach him no matter how fast he ran. He was always just out of his reach. Then when he finally reached him, Stiles collapsed in his arms. His breathing was labored and he could barely speak. Derek tried to tell him it was going to be okay, and that he was going to save him. There was blood all over Derek’s hands, not knowing where Stiles was bleeding from. Stiles reached up, caressing Derek’s face gently. His eyes were suddenly vacant, empty of all signs of life as his hand fell limp against the ground.

That was when Derek woke up. It was too real for him to brush off as just a dream. He groaned, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes.

“You okay?” Stiles’ voice surprised Derek.

Derek looked behind him briefly, seeing that Stiles had found another pair of his sweatpants. He could see the hickeys that fully formed, decorating Stiles’ throat. He also now noticed how tired and worn out Stiles looked. _I can’t leave him alone_ , he thought, thinking about how much the nightmare was affecting him. He thought about the possibility of abandoning Stiles and Beacon Hills in an attempt to save him from whatever horrors are still haunting him and threatening those he loved. But he didn’t want to leave Stiles, not now that they had each other.

Stiles hugged his chest, feeling extremely cold now that he wasn’t under the warmth of the blankets. _I need to convince Derek to install a heating system._ He could tell, however, that something was wrong with Derek, and placed domestic needs in the back of his mind. He grabbed his discarded sweater, pulling it onto his body, allowing it to drape open.  _Something is better than nothing._

“No, I’m not okay,” Derek honestly admitted, knowing Stiles would be able to call his bluff.

“Bad dream?” Stiles inquired.

“Felt pretty real,” Derek replied as he leaned against the railing, keeping his back to Stiles. “We need to talk,” he finally uttered.

Stiles’ stomach dropped, the feeling of a brick hitting him in the gut would have been kinder than this sensation. “If it’s about me staying—if you need your space, I understand that,” he almost stumbled over his words as he tried to stop the inevitable words he knew were coming next.

“It would probably be best to separate. For a while,” Derek’s voice was hollow as it echoed in Stiles’ ears.

“Why?” Stiles forced himself to ask.

“I’m …” Derek didn’t want to lie, but he knew Stiles would argue him. _He won’t take my bullshit_. “I’m having second-guesses,” he partly lied.

“About … me?” Stiles asked, the panic rising.

“About us,” Derek corrected him. The last thing he wanted was for Stiles to blame himself.

“What happened?” Stiles asked. “What the hell did you dream that suddenly you don’t want me in your life?”

“Stiles,” Derek sighed as he spoke his name.

“Don’t ‘Stiles’ me. You’re hiding something and you want to half-ass facing it so you’re acting distant.”

If there was one thing Derek had to choose in not liking about Stiles, it was his ability to see through his bullshit.

“I’m not someone who gets a happy ending, Stiles,” Derek finally confessed.

Stiles felt as if a weight began to lift off of his chest. “Is this because I made you celebrate Christmas?” He began to think about everything happening; about how much Derek was changing his life to accommodate him. _He’s been alone for years, and now he’s trying to be a part of something._

“You didn’t _make_ me celebrate Christmas, but … maybe,” Derek exasperated a sigh as he crossed his arms.

“Derek, please just tell me what’s wrong,” Stiles almost begged.

“Everything has been perfect … Happy.” Derek stated ‘happy’ with a tone of resentment, as if he hated and feared the very existence of the word.

“Don't you think you deserve to be happy, Derek? Don't you think I do?” Stiles asked as he stood his ground. “Haven’t we been through enough that we deserve to be happy … together?” He added the last word in hopes Derek would understand his determination to make them work.

“Of course _you_ do,” Derek replied, aggravated that he started this entire conversation. “We’re just different,” he finally stated.

“Derek …” Stiles sighed, running his hands through his hair. _You either say it now, confront him and deal with his anger, or lose him inside his armor once more._ “I know we don't talk about it, because you've made it taboo, but … you aren't to blame for Paige.”

“Stiles,” Derek spoke his name in warning.

“No!” Stiles suddenly protested. “I am not going to shut up because you think it’s none of my business. But it is my business if you think her death is reason enough to break up with me.” He body was shaking, his pulse quickening under the adrenaline pumping through his veins. “What happened to her wasn't your fault. And I know you're scared something is going to happen to me.” He grew angrier when Derek didn't turn to face him. “Damn it, Derek, I love you,” he admitted for the first time, his voice breaking as he spoke, unable to hold back his tears any longer. _You admit you love him when he wants to break up with you. Smooth._ “And every time you risk your life for everyone else in the pack, don't you think I get scared shitless? That I think it might be the last time I see you? I have crushing nightmares that I'm standing at your funeral, left thinking about how I am supposed to live now that you're gone. So don't you _dare_ tell me that we’re different, especially when it comes to our worries. Loss is something you risk when you fall in love with someone.”

Derek remained silent, processing Stiles’ words. He finally turned to look at Stiles, his breath catching when he saw his face. _You’re an idiot_ , Derek criticized himself.

The dark exhaustion circles around Stiles’ eyes were still evident, his nose reddened from crying. He desperately wiped his face with the sleeve of his sweater that was now partially draping his body just falling off his shoulders. He looked away from Derek, sniffling some to stop his nose from running. He felt stupid for crying, but if Derek was going to break up with him, he was going to cry and scream all he wanted.

“Now, stop being a jerk and get back in bed with me,” Stiles commanded as he turned on his heel, heading straight back for the bed. He unceremoniously dove head first into the bed, crawling underneath the covers. He was overjoyed when Derek walked into his view.

Derek moved the blankets, gracefully slipping under them. He moved, surprising Stiles when he moved to rest his head on his chest. He silently listened to Stiles’ heart beating beneath his ear, a gentle yet strong rhythm that calmed Derek’s thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” Derek apologized. “I just … I can’t lose you,” he admitted. “The thought of losing you like … Paige,” her name didn’t come easily as he spoke. “Like my family. I just don’t want to lose the last thing I care about.”

Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek, resting his cheek against his head. He closed his eyes, relieved that he was right in assuming Derek’s attempt to break up with him was hatched from a hidden fear of losing him.

“You’re never going to lose me,” Stiles stated with confidence. “Because I’m always going to be yours. No matter what happens, you have me. All of me. Okay?”

Derek slowly nuzzled Stiles chest in an attempt to get closer to him. He wanted to lose himself in Stiles, never to emerge again. “Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the last one. Holiday dinner at Papa Stilinski's house, where he may or may not glare at Derek for leaving hickeys on his son. And special guest stars!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter! Hope you enjoy!

“You know I meant it, right?” Stiles asked as he stood in front of his dad’s house.

“That we were going to be late?” Derek asked, staring at the door still.

“No, what I said last night,” Stiles specified.

“About not being able to go another round?” Derek jokingly asked as he arched his eyebrows at Stiles.

“No,” Stiles partially laughed. “You proved me wrong on that one, anyways,” he sheepishly corrected Derek. “I meant it when I said I l—”

The door abruptly opened, cutting off Stiles before he could finish his statement. Stiles was more than shocked when he realized it was Scott answering his dad’s door.

“Scotty?!” Stiles excitedly stated. “What the hell are you doing here?” He tightly embraced Scott who barely finished stepping outside the threshold.

“Derek didn’t tell you?” Scott inquired as he embraced Stiles in return.

“Tell me? Tell me what?” Stiles asked, releasing Scott in favor of looking at Derek.

“I figured you would want to see everyone, at least once, before Christmas,” Derek explained. “Your father agreed.”

“And by everyone he means me, my mom, and Kira,” Scott explained. “I hope that’s okay with you.”

“Okay? That’s amazing! This is the best,” Stiles smiled as he spoke.

“Great,” Scott replied, leading the way into the house.

Stiles was mid-stride in following Scott before he quickly turned around to face Derek. He grabbed Derek’s jacket as he pulled him closer. Derek followed Stiles’ pull, allowing him to close the gap between them. “You are the most thoughtful boyfriend ever. Thank you,” he smiled before kissing Derek quickly. “Now I don’t have to feel guilty for showering all my attention on you.”

“That was the point,” Derek replied before kissing Stiles again.

“Careful, Stiles’ dad might still shoot you,” Scott commented as he peered his head out the door.

Stiles groaned as he pulled himself away from Derek. He was annoyed that his father had given him some freedom, but pulled a complete ‘what-are-your-intentions-towards-my-son’ as soon as Stiles told him about his relationship with Derek.

“I’ve gotten good at avoiding bullets,” Derek joked as he followed Stiles into the house.

“I don’t know if I should be comforted by that fact,” Stiles commented.

“I’m not going to shoot him,” Stiles’ dad announced from the kitchen.

“Dad, you got exceptional hearing in your old age,” Stiles replied as he started to remove his scarf, pulling the fabric off of his neck. He bunched the material before placing it on the rack before tossing his jacket to rest on top of it. He quickly walked to the kitchen, spotting his dad moving around the enclosed quarters, avoiding Scott, Kira, and Scott’s mom.

“I did not expect a huge reunion,” Stiles noted, smiling when Kira moved to quickly hug him before ducking out of the kitchen, returning to her duty of preparing the table.

“Just the necessities,” Scott’s mom said as she moved to hug Stiles. After releasing Stiles, she moved past Derek, gently touching his arm in a reassuring manner.

Scott almost did a double take when he saw Stiles, making a slashing manner across his throat. Stiles arched his eyebrow at him, not understanding his signaling. Scott repeated his motion, trying to avoid gaining Sheriff Stilinski’s attention. He finally waved a hand at Stiles, sighing in defeat as he exited the kitchen to help Kira with the table.

“You’re late,” Sheriff Stilinski stated as he leaned over the turkey, carving pieces out of it.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Stiles sheepishly replied, rubbing the back of his head. _Not really sorry_ , he thought to himself as he recalled waking up to Derek sucking him off in his sleep-ridden state. _Best way to wake up in the morning_.

Derek smiled as he observed Stiles’ hunched form, hands crammed in his pockets, slowly approaching his dad. He crossed his arms as he lounged against the doorframe, watching Stiles’ every move. He knew Stiles was thinking about this morning, and how he desperately wanted to stay in bed longer.

Stiles stared back at Derek, holding his gaze as he moved across the room to greet his father. This was the first time he was going to be talking to his dad with Derek present since the two of them had begun dating. To say Stiles was freaking out was an understatement. His brain was barely functioning as he continued to run every scenario in his head, most of them ending with his father either shooting, pistol whipping, or shooting and pistol whipping Derek. He embraced his dad, arching his eyebrow at Derek’s smug expression.

“When did you become a leopard,” Stiles’ dad stated as he released him, gesturing to his neck.

“Wha—” Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin when he noticed the visible bruises decorating his collarbone—and probably his neck, for all he knew—for everyone to see. “I, uh, well,” he continued to stutter as he tried to find a suitable excuse besides the truth that his boyfriend speckled his body with hickeys throughout last night and into the early hours of the morning. He suddenly understood Scott’s gestures from moments ago, and he hated that Scott didn’t take him out of the room to remind him that he was decorated with hickeys. _Way to go, Scotty_.

“I don’t want to know,” Sheriff Stilinski replied, giving Derek a small glance before going back to the turkey.

Stiles nodded to himself, knowing it was better to not give an excuse. He looked at Derek and noticed he was smiling. _Smug bastard. Enjoying your handy work, are you?_

Stiles attempted to stay out of the way or to at least assist in finishing the prep work for the dinner. He was amused when even Derek offered to help, happy that Derek wasn’t showing signs of regret for getting everyone together.

It wasn’t until they all proceeded to sit at the table that Stiles realized how his father planned to punish him for being late. He grumbled when his dad motioned to the seat across the table from Derek, signaling Stiles to sit there. _He knows me too well_ , he thought, knowing he wouldn’t be able to take his hands off of Derek under the cover of the table.

Derek easily slid into the seat next to Kira, which unfortunately also placed him next to Stiles’ dad, making Stiles extremely nervous. For some reason, Stiles thought Derek being in arm’s reach of his father would somehow result in an altercation of some sort. _Dad can still bitch him out from across the room_ , Stiles reasoned with himself.

Stiles took his own spot next to his dad, and Scott. Scott’s mom took the seat at the other head of the table. They were all settled in their seats when Stiles smiled to himself. It was like they were a family, something he didn’t know he would miss this much.

“This is nice,” Scott’s mom stated with a small smile as she unfolded her napkin to place on her lap.

“Yeah, thanks for this,” Stiles replied, looking at Derek as he spoke. _I can’t believe he arranged this. He’s such a romantic_. He slowly slid one of his feet in-between Derek’s, enjoying the warmth. Derek looked up at Stiles, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

“It was a good idea, Derek,” Stiles’ dad stated.

Stiles’ breath caught in his throat, anxious that his father addressed Derek directly. _He knows I’m playing footsie with him!_ He looked between Derek and his dad, noticing that Derek only calmly nodded his head in response. _He is so damn calm and collected._

“I thought hogging Stiles wouldn’t be fair,” Derek casually replied.

There was a small silence as Stiles’ dad nodded his head in response.

“Thank you for not hogging him,” Scott added, sensing Stiles’ tension. “I’m sure he needs a break. Ow!” He cried out, looking at Stiles, who had abruptly kicked him under the table.

Scott’s mom cleared her throat, an attempt to battle the slowly rising tension, no thanks to Scott’s comment.

“Dad, please stop glaring at Derek,” Stiles slightly pleaded.

“I’m not glaring at him,” Stiles’ dad replied defensively.

“You were a little bit,” Scott’s mom commented.

“I’m not,” Stiles’ dad said to Derek directly.

“It would be alright if you were,” Derek replied respectfully.

Stiles rolled his eyes at how much of a perfect kiss ass Derek could be. It both annoyed and made him incredibly happy that Derek could put on the Hale charm and bewitch people into loving him.

Conversation came easily after that, both Scott and Kira explaining what they had been doing for the past few months as Stiles listened eagerly. Every now and again—when Stiles was sure Derek was feeling awkward—he gently wiggled his toes against Derek’s feet as he looked at him, a signal to let him know that he hadn’t forgotten about him.

Near the end of the meal, Derek took a moment to politely excuse himself to the bathroom. He felt out of place sitting at a table with others. With a family. He actually enjoyed the fact that Stiles’ dad had been protective over Stiles. There was a time Derek’s mom used to act like that about him and his siblings. He remembered how he glared at Isaac the same way when he expressed interest in Cora.

Derek leaned against the sink, inspecting his face in the mirror as he turned from side to side. He understood Sheriff Stilinski’s hesitation towards allowing him to date Stiles. He looked much older than Stiles, the years of hardship taking their toll on him, and he was very different than him. He had experienced the world for its beauty and horror, while Stiles was still experiencing the excitement of underage drinking.

Derek stared at his eyes in the mirror, content that he could keep his irises the green color he was born with. He allowed his eyes to flicker blue, briefly releasing his hold on his inner wolf. A small growl emitted from his stomach, his hatred for the blue color still strong. The reminder that he has never been able to protect those he loved; Paige, his family, Boyd, countless others. The reason family get-togethers like this often made him feel out of place and awkward.

There was a faint knock on the door, pulling Derek from his thoughts. He ignored the noise, knowing who it was. The door opened briefly to allow Stiles enough room to slip inside before closing. Derek didn’t turn to look at him, giving no indication he even registered Stiles’ presence.

Stiles didn’t wait for Derek to show acknowledgement as he closed the gap between them, resting his hand on Derek’s forearm. “You okay? I mean, clearly you aren’t,” he added. “I’m sorry my dad acted like that. These probably don’t help,” he gestured towards the hickeys. “Though I love my new accessories, my dad is a bit old fashioned, I think.” He ended with a nervous laugh, realizing that he was partially rambling. “And Scott and Kira just haven’t been able to tell me about their past few months. They probably figured since I’ve attached myself to your hip, that we’ve already talked about everything.”

“It’s none of that,” Derek admitted. “It’s …” he shook his head as he tried to find the right words. “I haven’t had a family meal in a long time. It’s a little …”

“Overwhelming,” Stiles finished Derek’s thought for him.

“But welcomed,” Derek stated in reassurance when he heard the disappointment in Stiles’ voice. He watched Stiles in the mirror as he nodded his head.

Stiles slowly moved behind Derek, hugging him tightly as he pressed his face into the curve of his back. He splayed his fingers across Derek’s chest, holding him in a possessive manner, letting him know that no matter where they were—even his father’s bathroom—he couldn’t stop himself from touching him. “Say the word, and we can go back home and never leave.”

Derek smiled. “I really love hearing you call it that,” he admitted.

“Trust me, it’s going to be home until we decide to move,” Stiles commented into Derek’s shirt.

“We just need to get through dinner, and then we can head out,” Derek explained. “Give your dad and the McCalls time to see you.”

“I think it’s adorable that you are calling Kira a McCall,” Stiles commented. “And it’s adorable that you planned all this, and that you are sacrificing your comfort level to have this happen,” he stated as he finally released Derek from his embrace. “Who knew you could not be a sour wolf.”

“Stop with the names,” Derek stated as he watched Stiles begin to exit the bathroom.

“Does the Big Bad Wolf not like his pet names?” Stiles asked with a devious grin.

“You do know the Big Bad Wolf eats Little Red Riding Hood, right?” Derek retorted.

“I would love for you to eat me,” Stiles replied with a flirtatious arch of his eyebrow.

Derek quickly—but playfully—smacked Stiles’ ass with his open hand before he could safely exit the bathroom. He smiled when he heard the faintly pleasured yelp that came from Stiles.

Derek returned to the table, taking his place as the others decided to not register that they knew he and Stiles were in the bathroom together.

The night was full of laughter and reminiscing, something Derek missed having the ability to do. Stiles pulled on his coat and scarf, finishing hugging everyone as Derek patiently stood next to the door.

Stiles caught a side glimpse of his father moving towards Derek, offering him his hand. He felt a wave of relief wash over him when they shook hands, his dad partially embracing Derek with his free hand.

“It was good to see you both,” Sheriff Stilinski said to Derek when he released him. “You’re both welcome, anytime.” He offered a smile, an apology for his behavior earlier.

“Thanks,” Derek sincerely replied.

Stiles followed Derek as he exited the house, side hugging his father as he passed him. He took a few wide strides to catch up to Derek, quickly grabbing his hand to hold as they made their way towards the Camaro.

“That was the best Christmas gift ever,” Stiles stated, tightening his hold on Derek’s hand.

“Who said that was my Christmas gift?” Derek questioned, a sly grin gracing his lips.

Stiles looked at Derek, smiling to himself. “Please tell me it’s an encore performance of last night,” he eagerly begged.

“Get in the car,” Derek said as he released Stiles’ hand, walking over to the driver’s side.

Stiles looked up at the sky, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ before he quickly got in the passenger’s side.

~0~0~0~0~0~

Stiles moaned loudly, clutching the pillow tightly as he shamelessly thrust his hips forward into the blankets, desperate to relieve some tension with the small friction. He stared off to the side, the bright lights of the Christmas tree greeting him. He noticed that a few ornaments still remained partially out of their boxes, never having a chance to be placed on the tree after Stiles playfully smacked Derek’s ass. _This is better than what I thought_ , Stiles admitted to himself, smiling when he remembered Derek’s face; a face that told him he was about to be punished for smacking that perfect ass.

“Derek,” Stiles whimpered his name, trying to hold on a little longer before tumbling over the edge head first into pleasure. He cried out again when Derek ran his tantalizing tongue slowly over his hole, receiving a low, but pleased, growl from deep within Derek’s chest. The growl sent a chill through Stiles’ spine, knowing Derek was loving every moment of this, which only turned him on more.

Derek loved it when Stiles writhed and squirmed under him from the pleasure. He loved the way his name tumbled off his lips when he was dangerously close; the way Stiles desperately tried to hold out a little while longer. But more importantly, he just loved Stiles. The basket case spaz who drove him crazy with his sarcastic responses and flirtatious looks.

Stiles gasped loudly when Derek inserts his finger, curling it to the perfect angle until he gently grazed his prostate. “Derek!” He moaned loudly, rocking his hips back into Derek’s hand. “Please,” he pleaded, knowing Derek loved him this way; face shoved into the pillow, ass high in the air, begging him for permission to come. _He’s a controlling bastard_ , he thought fondly of Derek’s dominating nature throughout their sexual escapades.

Derek moved to place a kiss above the dimples of Stiles’ back. His kiss quickly morphed into another bite, leaving an imprint of his teeth in Stiles’ delicate skin. He smiled when a moan escaped Stiles’ throat.

“Come for me, Little Red,” Derek finally said, a sly smile baring his teeth from the pride in using his own nickname for Stiles.

With Derek’s hand finally stroking him, that was all it took for Stiles to come. His body tensed, whimpering loudly when Derek’s finger continued to nudge his prostate as he worked him through his orgasm. He sighed when his body finally loosened, exhausted and spent.

 _I forgot how much of an animal he becomes after I blow him,_ Stiles thought as he rested his face on the pillow, hugging it tightly. He loved the way Derek’s feral side came out, craving to devour him. He sighed in content as Derek nuzzled his way up his back. “ _That_ was the best Christmas gift ever.”

Derek chuckled, planting a gentle kiss on Stiles’ shoulder blade. “That wasn’t it.”

“You’re going to kill me,” Stiles stated, turning his upper body to look at Derek. He was caught off guard when Derek leaned in, capturing his lips in a kiss. He released a small groan when Derek pulled back from him. “You know, I wouldn’t mind if I died from pleasure. Especially you, pleasuring me.”

“Can’t help myself,” Derek stated as he started standing, giving Stiles a soft smack on his ass, which caused him to laugh in response. He moved from their make-shift bed on the floor near the Christmas tree, and into the bedroom.

Stiles sat up on his elbows, looking after Derek, enjoying the view of his naked body as he opened his nightstand. He inwardly congratulated himself on having Derek as a boyfriend, appreciating the way the moonlight perfectly accented Derek's body. _I bagged myself a keeper; emotionally and physically._ He smiled when he saw the small wrapped box Derek produced from the nightstand's drawer.

Derek walked back over to Stiles, smiling when he saw Stiles staring at him. He sat down next to Stiles, holding out the small box.

Stiles smiled, sitting up as he took the box from Derek. “It’s only Christmas Eve,” he stated, turning the gift around in his hands as he inspected it.

“It was … _is_ a Hale family tradition to open a gift the night before Christmas,” Derek explained.

Stiles smiled, feeling somewhat disoriented by the sudden rush of happiness that passed over him. Derek had just referred to him as an official member of his family, and there was no way Stiles was letting Derek out of his grasp now. “In that case,” he started before turning to lean under the Christmas tree, grabbing the gift he placed under there for Derek. “Merry Christmas,” he said with a smile as he offered him the gift.

Derek smiled fondly at the gift, taking it from Stiles’ hands. He looked at the gift, feeling the rise of jubilation when he realized it was his first of many Christmases to come with Stiles.

“Can I open it?” Stiles asked in an excited voice.

Derek nodded as he looked up at Stiles. He was impressed by Stiles’ ability to shred the gift of all paper, like a carnivore cleaning something to the bone, there was no paper left in tact. He watched Stiles’ face as he opened the box, surprised that he was actually nervous about his reaction.

“I know you have a key already,” Derek explained, having difficulty reading Stiles’ expression. “But this one’s a better cut. It won’t bend or wear down like most keys do.”

Stiles pulled the key out of the box, noticing a keychain dangling from it. He set the box down, holding the keychain steady with his now free hand. It was a smooth circle of sterling silver, with a careful engraving of two wolves positioned like a yin-yang symbol. He ran his thumb along the engraving, feeling the rough edges where the laser cut away the metal. He felt a few equally rough notches on the other side, prompting him to inspect it. He felt his throat tighten from the wave of emotions that hit him when he read the back. It was the date of their anniversary, with a triskelion above it.

“I wasn’t sure about the wolves. I didn’t want to—”

“Shut up,” Stiles abruptly said as he moved closer to Derek, kissing him. “It’s perfect. It’s more perfect than anything.” He quickly kissed him again, clutching the key in his hand as he pressed his hand against Derek’s chest to keep from falling on him completely.

Derek moved his present to accommodate Stiles’ body as he pressed into him. He curled his arm around him, resting his open hand against his back as he held him closely.

“‘More perfect than anything’ is quite a boast,” Derek replied when Stiles pulled back.

“It’s an accurate one,” Stiles stated, moving his body back far enough for Derek to open his present. “Now open up yours,” he urged.

Derek easily pulled open the wrapping paper, discarding it to his side. He turned the gift over to come face to face with a family photo. _From before the fire_ , he thought, noticing the burn marks around the edge of the photo. He remembered how his mother insisted they pose for at least one family photo a year, something he hated as a child but wished he had now that he was an adult.

“I took it from the Police Station,” Stiles stated. “I figured they don’t need it lying around, down in the archives.”

Derek turned the picture in his hands, running his fingertips around the frame as he observed the preserved smiles of his family. “I thought I lost things like this forever,” he stated.

“I just wanted to get you something you missed,” Stiles explained. “Let you know that even though things changed, I’m not expecting you to. That the past is okay to hold on to,” his voice died down when he realized he was beginning to ramble.

Derek looked at Stiles, placing the picture frame to the side of their blankets before capturing Stiles’ chin in his hand. “You’re the only person I would gladly change for,” he stated.

Stiles looked up at Derek, smiling when he saw the seriousness of his statement. “I feel the same,” he admitted.

“With that confession last night, I figured,” Derek added.

“You remember that, huh?” Stiles attempted to play off the fact that he had told Derek he loved him as if it was nothing. He placed his hand on Derek’s as he tried to lean out of his touch.

“It’s hard to forget,” Derek replied, letting his hand fall from Stiles.

“Well, don’t let it go to your head. You were being an ass when I said it,” Stiles tried to defend his actions as being insincere.

“Stiles,” Derek said his name sternly, causing Stiles to look at him. “I love you, too.”

There was a loud ringing in Stiles’ ears, preventing him from properly processing Derek’s confession. It didn’t take long for his brain to catch up and begin a celebratory victory dance. _He just … he loves me. Holy shit, Derek Hale just said he loves me!_

“Stiles,” Derek arched his eyebrows as he said his name.

“Huh?” Stiles looked at Derek in surprise. “What?”

“That’s your response?”

“To what?” Stiles inquired, still mystified by what just happened. It was Derek’s unamused look that made his brain kickstart. “Oh, God no! That is not my response. I love you, too. Anyways, I said it first, so of course my response is reciprocal!”

Derek leaned forward, capturing Stiles lips, stopping him from continuing his small rant. He ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair, holding him close.

“This is the best Christmas ever,” Stiles spoke in between kisses, leaning his body into Derek.

“We’ll have to try to top it next year,” Derek replied, pushing him down into the blankets for a second round.

Neither of them cared that the clock had officially turned, marking the beginning of Christmas day. They lost themselves in one another, happy with their first of many Christmases together.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to join me on tumblr:
> 
> [drunklightning](http://drunklightning.tumblr.com) is my blog where I reblog anything I find of interest.
> 
> [dexterous-sinistrous](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com) is suited towards my ramblings about my writing, and NSFW. (It's where I serenade myself about Sterek). It's my trashcan of emotions. Feel free to stop by and say hi, criticize me, make incoherent noises with me, whatevs.
> 
> [Send](http://dexterous-sinistrous.tumblr.com/ask) me any prompts you think you'd like to have me write!


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